


On the Road

by flashindie



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Early in Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:53:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashindie/pseuds/flashindie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boys on the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Road

It’s probably the first time Pete’s slept all tour but he totally pissed in Joe’s bottle of Red Bull the other night, so Joe can’t say he feels bad about drawing all over the guy’s face.

“So, like,” Joe says, and he’s drawing on one of those moustaches that don’t look good on anyone who isn’t in a silent movie - he lets it curl at the edges. “Heard this fucker was a heartthrob or something.”

They’ve set up camp for the night in the parking lot of a Target shopping centre and all four of them are crammed into the back, letting their breath stagnate in the hopes of keeping in the warmth. The snow’s blanketing the roof of the van, the cold fogging up the windows like it’s trying to keep them and the rest of the world apart – keep them safe from it. Joe doesn’t even know, but Pete had called it a looking glass before he’d fallen asleep, written _hide Alice away_ in the condensation on the window, and Joe’s always been too willing to humour him.

Pete’s the only one asleep for a change, and he’s managed to sprawl himself over Patrick’s lap. Patrick who’s seventeen and ridiculously used to this, used to _Pete_ , and he looks almost too comfortable, staring at the roof of the van, humming out a tune that Joe can’t name. His fingers, naked and icy cold, buried in Pete’s hair. 

Patrick stops humming just enough to say, “That’s what Tigerbeat tells me, man.” 

Joe snorts, starts drawing a dick on Pete’s cheek as he says, “You read that shit?”

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick mumbles. “In between curling my hair and getting my spray-tans.”

“Hot, dude.”

Andy quirks a brow, quiet on the other side of Patrick. He was texting someone earlier, but somewhere in the last ten minutes he dropped his cell phone to the floor, lay on his back and pulled his knees up. He’s reaching for his backpack now, pulls out a book with a name Joe can’t pronounce. He’ll read all night, usually does until Pete ambushes him and steals his shit. Joe grins over at him, and Andy rolls his eyes, tries to suppress his own smile, but whatever. Joe counts that as a win. He finishes off drawing the balls on Pete’s face before he caps the pen, throws it into the front seat and drops down onto his side. He manages to grab Patrick’s arm before he falls, tugs him down with him, and Patrick keeps humming, pulls Pete further into his lap as he lies down.

“What are you humming, dude?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick mumbles, half-asleep already. “Pete gave me lyrics, I’m just messing around.”

Joe will have it in his head for days.


End file.
